Finding 'Full Monty' in Mother Lode

However, "The Full Monty" doesn't titillate as much as it illustrates plenty of real-world anxiety.

"It's about people who are out of work," said Larry Daggett, a New York City-based actor who's back at Sonora's Sierra Repertory Theatre, playing Harold Nichols in "The Full Monty." "They're desperate for money. Desperate for anything. They'll do anything - even take their clothes off in public - to get it."

Of course, "The Full Monty" - originally a 1997 British film whose stage version opens tonight in Sonora - also tells the story of six unemployed men daring themselves to take it all off. For urgently needed money.

"It's technical wizardry, mostly," said Scott Viets, who first directed Daggett in "The Full Monty" at Sierra Rep in 2005 (April 29-July 3). "It's, like, 'Lighting operator, don't miss your cue.' The men actually are fully nude, but the audience doesn't quite see everything. We definitely leave something to the imagination. It's literally the last moment of the show."

The mostly fully clothed play, retooled for the stage and re-set from industrial Sheffield, England, to Buffalo, N.Y., still resonates today as Americans struggle with unemployment, outsourcing of jobs, home foreclosures, Wall Street exploitation and reduced earning power.

"Oh, absolutely," said Viets, 46, the production's choreographer, who's been the theater company's artistic director since 2002. "Even more so than when the show was written.

"There's also a myriad of other problems dealing with very real lifestyle issues relating to low self-esteem, custody battles, divorce. Money dictates so much that happens in our culture."

Chippendale's it's not. It is fun. Especially during the culminating scene, when strategically placed lighting - it creates a silhouette effect - preserves the actors' modesty.

"Literally, for one second, we have no clothes on," said Daggett, who never tells his age due to casting biases. "It's the only time in my experience I've ever seen the audience. The reaction runs the gamut.

"People are horrified, gratified, ecstatic, smiling ear to ear. Some cover their eyes. They don't wanna see naked men. Sometimes men in the audience look over at their wives to see what their reaction is. That's pretty funny. All night they've been watching us. Now we watch them."

In one case, a drunken woman just "fell on her face in front of us. Some women throw bras and panties. Some, for whatever reason, want to see men naked."

A Red Hat Society group once tossed "an entire array - it must have been 50 items - of every freaking garment you could imagine," Daggett said with a fond laugh. "In every one, there were little red hats. I still have a bra with a little red sombrero sewn into it. And panties with a red top hat.

"It's not like I'm a perv. Those women come together as a group and have a ... good time."

That matches Daggett's experience in Sonora, where he's fond of the small-town hospitality - he's staying in a donated cottage and has a "nice" loaned car - the cast members (three of whom were in the 2005 production) and Viets, who called Daggett "flexible, funny" and an "old pro."

"What matters most is the relationship with other actors and the theater's management," said Daggett, who works mostly with regional groups. "I couldn't ask for more than here. Scott (Viets) is one of the best I've ever worked with."

There've been quite a few.

Born in Long Beach, Daggett was "brought up into" community theater.

His parents, William, a set builder, and Laurella, a "flaming redhead, extremely extroverted" actor, met during a summer stock production in Greeley, Colo.

Full-time teachers, they were part of Long Beach Community Theater, where Daggett made his stage debut at 6. He was "crocodile in a box" during a production of "The Happiest Millionaire."

Theater was a basic aspect of his life as he graduated from California State University, Fullerton, and moved on to train at Asolo Repertory Theatre in Sarasota, Fla.

He also attended Studio City's now-defunct Grove School of Music: "I started auditioning and writing music all day. I was a bit introverted."

In 1996, he was chosen to play Henry Ford in the original musical production of "Ragtime," a stage adaptation of E.L. Doctorow's 1975 novel. His three-year run was educational.

"It was my first experience with corporate theater," Daggett said. "Regional theater is all about putting on the very best production possible. Broadway's all about making as much money as you can."

The regional approach is Viets' plan, too.

Born in Lompoc, he moved around as a child - dad Brian was in the Air Force - spending time in Homestead, Fla., and Lakenheath, England, before the family settled in San Diego. Mom Stella, who's British, became the San Diego Chargers' popular switchboard voice.

A "band geek" (trombone, piano, clarinet) and orchestrator at Grossmont High School, he was concentrating on music and dance when a Grossmont College friend coaxed Viets into auditioning for "Where's Charlie?" He made it.

Viets attended San Diego State University and was working on "West Side Story" at San Diego Junior Theatre in 1997 when he realized: "I guess I looked back, and I was putting on neighborhood plays as a kid. Bossing all the other little kids around."

His "nerve-racking" directing debut - "Psycho Beach Party" at San Diego's Diversionary Theater in 2000 - was a big hit.

Viets thought he was going to Sonoma when he arrived in Sonora to freelance on a 2000 production of "State Fair." Viets worked on three Sierra Rep shows before joining the company. He's choreographed each of the 35 he's directed.

Though "it's not 'Beauty and the Beast' or 'Cats,' " Viets said, "The Full Monty" rates among his five musical favorites.

He's developed some fresh angles and nuances for himself and preserved similar choices for his 17-member cast.

"Every actor is different," said Viets, who lives in downtown Sonora. "No two people are alike. One of the main things I decided to do was forget the last production and give them the freedom to explore their characters.

"I encourage that. I don't want to put anybody in a box. It's not productive. It's unfair and not creative."

There's not much audience guidance required.

"It's a little more well-known," Daggett said. "It's not like 'The Sound of Music.' But if people come thinking it'll be some sort of raunchy strip-club story, it's the antithesis of that. The last thing these guys want to do is take off their clothes in front of women, let alone themselves. They can't even do that."